I Miss You
by ncalkins
Summary: Jeff regrets killing his brother.


I Miss You

by ncalkins, I do not own Jeff the Killer or any creepypasta

"Go to sleep!"

Jeff huffed above the body of a beefy man. He wiped his brow smearing blood across his face. His fingers uncurled from around his knife; pain spiked his hand. He always held his knife in too tight a grip. Jeff stumbled to his feet. He wiped his knife against his blood crusted hoodie, and tucked it away into his pocket.

"Fucker." Jeff spat on the corpse as he walked over it.

He gritted his teeth as his side burned. His hands pressed against his right side. He wished the blood staining the inside of his hoodie belonged to someone else. The Last Bastard had gotten him good. Usually, the rush of a victim that fights back leaves Jeff with a perpetual high, but tonight it sucked. He had been tossed around like a rag doll before The Last Bastard stabbed him.

He passed the little girl's silent room. It had been easy to sneak into her bedroom. The window had been left unlocked, it went up without a sound, and allowed him to slip in like a shadow. The little girl slept on. He shook her awake. She groaned and rubbed her eye as she turned to look at him.

"Shh, shh, shh," he hushed. "Go to sleep."

The girl's eyes widened. He stabbed her in the throat before she could scream. He stabbed her again and again.

Jeff snorted at the memory. It had been a lazy killing. Adults or even some teens, the douchebags, are far more fun to kill than kids. Kids just stared, screamed, and/or cried. At least the older ones put up a fight.

Jeff groaned as he passed the mom's bedroom. He wished the man had been as easy to kill as the mother was. She screamed once before her eyes rolled up into her head and she passed out. Jeff stabbed her a few times before he carved a smile into her face. He had just gotten up to admire his handiwork when the front door had slammed open.

Jeff peeked out the bedroom door. A drunk man weaved his way to the daughter's room. The scream that came from there made Jeff's heart race for the first time that night. This run had been a bore before this instance. Jeff stalked over to the daughter's room.

"Go. To. Sleep." He raised his knife to stab the man.

The man whipped around and grabbed Jeff's arm. He slung Jeff around him out the daughter's room, and then he tackled him. They rolled down the stairs. Jeff grunted with every bounce and bruise. The man straddled Jeff; his ham like fist slammed into Jeff's face. Jeff spotted his knife nearby. He wiggled an arm out from under the man and reached for his knife. The man spotted him, and pulled out a pocket knife. He rammed it into Jeff's side, and pulled it up. Jeff screamed as he punched the man over his heart. The man grunted and fell backwards, clutching his chest. Jeff used this time to grab his knife and jumped on the man. The man went down easy after that. Maybe he had a heart condition? At least he went down before he could kill Jeff.

Jeff slammed into the wall. He cursed as his wound flared up.

"Assholes, just had to have the bathroom at the end of the hall," Jeff groaned as he pushed himself forward.

The light of the bathroom buzzed to life with a flick of a switch. Jeff grimaced as the light blinded him. He hadn't thought how fucking stupid it was to cut off his eyelids, but damn does he regret it at times. He looked into the mirror that acted as a door to the medicine cabinet.

His bloodshot eyes stared back at him. Yellow gunk trailed down his scarred nose. His paper white skin gleamed in the lamplight. His scarred smile made it hard for him to frown or grimace in pain, but he managed.

"Still beautiful," Jeff whispered as he ran his bloodied fingers through his black hair.

He opened the medicine cabinet. Pill bottles, tweezers, and other small items littered the shelves.

"Where the fuck is the first aid?" Jeff muttered as he shoved bottles out of the way.

He found a small box of band aids. Jeff growled as he stuffed the box into his hoodie. He turned to look for a first-aid box, but then he heard sirens.

"Shit," Jeff cursed as he hurried out the bathroom.

He ran to the daughter's bedroom, kicked toys out of his way, and climbed out the window. He rushed through the backyard, and climbed the wooden fence into the neighbor's. A chained up dog barked and growled at him; Jeff ignored it as he sprinted to the fence wall. He tossed himself over it, and ran down the street until he knew he had lost the police. He slowed down and limped down alleyways. Most people who roamed the streets knew to avoid him. That good grace came with his looks. Just a perk of being beautiful.

He made it to the rundown house he had been stowed away in for the last couple of weeks. He'd have to move again soon. He nudged the living room door open, no need to pull it off the hinges like the front door. It squealed like a little kid, but stayed intact. He walked over the dust covered floor to the wall. He plopped down next to the grimy window where a street lamp shined through. Dried blood pulled at his skin as he peeled off the hoodie and black tank top. He cursed the dead man for the hole in his only pair of clothes. He dug out the box of band-aids, opened it, and shook the rectangles out onto the ground. He picked one up and looked at it before he applied it.

"Stupid little smiley faces," he muttered, "just like the ones Liu used to use on me."

He remembered those times. Each time he'd get a scrape or a cut, Liu was on top of him fussing.

"Aw, did my baby brotha get a boo-boo," Liu would coo. "Let big brother help."

Jeff would yell at Liu to leave him alone when company was around, but if Liu got to him alone, Jeff would let him baby him. It was nice. Liu would clean his wounds no matter how small, bandage it, hug him, toss his hair, hold him, and take a nap with him if time allowed for all of that.

Jeff finished putting the band-aids over his wound as best he could. He stared into the darkness as the house creaked around him.

He rubbed his arms. "It's okay Jeffy, big brother is here."

Tears and junk streamed down his face. He sniffed before he laid down on his blood soaked hoodie. As he drifted to sleep, he could feel Liu's fingers card through his hair.

Review!

I know I made Jeff a bit of a baby in this, but I feel like at times he would regret his actions that's why he's always calling himself beautiful so he can justify them in a way.


End file.
